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Rocco and Blade followed him, closing the door behind them. Clothes were tossed all over the bed as if the pretty boy couldn’t pick just one outfit. “Goin’ somewhere?” Kit asked as he plopped himself down on Val’s bed, on top of the clothes, and leaned against the headboard.
    “Yeah. Your bachelor party. Hold on. Let me finish getting dressed.” Going over to his dresser, he picked up a black bow tie and fastened it around his neck. “I’m ready.”
    “What the hell, Val? Why would you do something like that? I don’t want to look at you,” Kit snarled.
    Val grinned. “We’re crashing the girls’ gig.”
    “No, we’re not.” Rocco tucked his hands under his armpits and spread his legs.
    “Oh yes we are. They have costumes .”
    “What kind of costumes?” Kit asked.
    “No idea. They picked them out when we went shopping. Somebody”—he gave Kit the evil eye—“wouldn’t let me in the dressing rooms. Didn’t you see what Ivy brought home?”
    “No. She put her stuff in my old room and wouldn’t let me go in there.”
    “How about you guys?” Val asked the other two.
    Rocco and Blade looked at each other. “No.”
    “And you call yourselves Red Teamers. You’re a disgrace to the unit.”
    Blade grinned. “So what’s the plan?”
    Val held up a couple decks of cards. “We lie low until things heat up. When they send Casey out, we’ll know things are about to get serious. We let ’em drink, get rowdy. Then we crash it, when their resistance is down and they need some testosterone.”
    “Just one problem with that plan. Have you talked to Greer?” Kit asked.
    “No.”
    “Then how do you know they don’t have the testosterone end of things covered with a few hired strippers?”
    “That ain’t happening,” Rocco growled.
    Kit’s glare went his way. “What do you think all the giggling’s about?”
    “It’s cool.” Blade’s smile wasn’t quite a smile. “The only way in for their entertainment’s through the front door. And us.”  
    “So we wait.” Kit got off the bed. He picked up a black tee shirt and tossed it toward Val. “And cover up. I don’t need to see man-nips all night.”
    Val pulled the tee on. Kit frowned when he saw that it didn’t quite hit the waistband of his low jeans, leaving a thin strip of skin to showcase his obliques. He slipped on a pair of flip-flops then held his hands out to show he was ready.
    “Lose the bow,” Kit ordered.
    Val pulled it off and slipped it into a pocket. “We could have brought in our own strippers and spared ourselves the torture of deprivation—and the need to crash their party, you know.”  
    “Who needs strippers when we’ve got the real deal?” Blade asked as he opened the door.
    “One-third of the team is taken care of, but the other two-thirds aren’t. And you’re not sharing. Would it hurt you to at least let me get—or give—a lap dance?”
    “Nope. Wouldn’t hurt me a bit.” Kit smiled. “But it would kill you.”

    * * *

    Kit looked up when Greer’s phone rang. The girls had been moving back and forth down the hall, lowering their conversations to hushed whispers when they passed in front of the living room. Kathy and Dennis had blocked off the dining room after lunch, moving the two large screens in front of the wide entrance into the living room. Dinner was being served later than usual. Kathy was feeding Zavi in the kitchen and Dennis was going to babysit him until Rocco and Mandy went to bed.  
    “Copy that,” Greer said, then hung up. The entire team was in the living room. Greer’s call hadn’t come from one of the guys.  
    “What’s doin’, Greer?” Kit asked.
    “Nothing.” He set his beer down then tapped something on his phone, dimming the lights in the living room. “We got incoming.”
    “Incoming what?” Owen asked.
    “Women.”
    Kit narrowed his eyes. “What kind of women?”  
    “From the eighteenth century, I’d say. And, before you kick my ass, all